But the scientific genius that released these chemical compounds upon the world, advertised as instruments to a better life, turned out to be the genie that could not be put back into the bottle. And the bottle was plastic, the bottle cap was plastic, and the original of Pandora's Box was probably a prophecy of Synthetics.

What could be done? Recycle that old plastic trash. But then you just have... more plastic.

Better still: reduce the use of plastic. Stop buying it. The less plastic is used, the less plastic will be manufactured and sold. It was always about business anyway.

In their caption to the gruesome bottom photo here, Forest and Kim Starr cite the speculation that the Laysan Albatross are attracted to plastic trash because it comes with a thin slimy layer of marine life as coating, giving it the appearance of something delicious.

To feel one's own life, interdependent, whole, open in the moment is to feel the life around us, with us. Money seems a kind of acceptable expression of killing rage for not being a god after all. What other reason could there be for it to be our god, our stand in? Make any sense?

Painful and necessary to look at what one does and its consequences. Thank you.